Duncan sat on a barrel as the loud clashing of metal commenced, the forging of steel. The sound was customary to him now, and almost soothing. He fiddled around with a worn cloth apron, but soon enough he realized the sound had vanished. He looked up to see the older gentleman, his teacher, staring back at him with bold eyes. "You aren't going to learn anything by doing nothing. Hard work is the means to an easy life." He always said that, Duncan always believed he was just waiting to retire, return home to England and live like the King. That would never happen though. Wallace would be smashing metals together until he was but a grave. Duncan hopped from his seat and made his way over to Wallace. As he went to grab some tools to assist, a low grunt stopped him. "No, no. Here," Wallace mumbled, grabbing a large case from a nearby table. "Take this to the mailing office, just down the road. Can you handle this at least?" Duncan shoved his words off, but knew Wallace was just pulling his leg. He smirked and grabbed the case, positioning it under his arm as he walked to the entrance of the shop. As he opened the door, the sun blasted upon him. Duncan threw his hand up to shade his eyes and took a few steps out. The streets were bustling as usual. Men, women, kids playing. But if not most prominent were the soldiers baring red coats and muskets, in formation marching down the road. A cornerstone of Boston. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a rather bland day, clouds consuming the sky, rain almost inevitable. Leo was under a small tent, fumbling around with some papers. Soon enough a soldier ran up, out of breathe and almost shaking. "Commander Dubov, sir." The young man said, quickly yet with as much respect as he could muster in his tone. Leo turned and faced the soldier, saluting him when he saw the boy's arm shoot up, almost horrified that he forgot to salute in the first place. "Commander Dubov," He repeated," Captain Klepin requests you over in his tent." Leo simply nodded and exited from under his own tent. The boy watched, almost waiting for yet another order for him to blindly follow. "That'll be all." Leo said softly. The soldier nodded and ran off to fetch more errands presumably. Leo grabbed his rifle, walking through the field. He took the time to look over the encampment. They had taken this from the Germans not even two days ago. The smell of battle was still in the air. When he finally had approached the Captain, he noticed several other Commanders in attendance. "Dubov, good." The Captain said. He wasn't a man of many words, unless planning the next advancement was in order. And by the looks of things, it was about to be in order. Leo walked up and leaned on one of the poles supporting the tent. "We can not simmer in this victory for too long," Klepin began, "We must push forward before they can even attempt a counterattack. Our main forces are closing in on Warsaw. We will hopefully be able to push into Germany within the next few days. It's what we all have been waiting for. Rally your men, we move tomorrow morning." And with that the meeting dispersed. Leo left almost as quickly as he arrived. "Never a dull moment." He muttered to himself.